A New Beginning
by Bad Werewolf
Summary: This is a prequel to Arithmancy, although you should read the rest of the series first if you wanna follow this. Very short one-shot.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of it. If you tried to sue me you would find I don't own much money either.

**Author's Note**: Just a short one-shot I wrote quite some time ago as part of my Arithmancy series... nothing special really. Wow, Harry Potter's deviated enough from itself that I have to choose between books or movies, on this site? Heh, really doesn't make a different to this story, but I do find that detail highly amusing.

x x x

**A New Beginning**

x x x

He awoke in a room that felt as though it should be familiar. Stone walls, narrow windows through which sunlight streamed. It was warm and comfortable, and he realised he lay in a four-poster bed. A woman stood in the corner. She wore a long cloak the hood of which concealed her face, though he could hear the smile in her voice when she said, "Good afternoon, friend."

"What- how did I get here?" he demanded, sitting up in the soft bed and looking around in surprise. There was a sense of fear about him, something had gone very wrong, he knew, but he did not know what. This woman was both strange and familiar at the same time, and he could not understand why her mere presence felt as if it should comfort him.

"Be calm, you are safe here." the woman said in a soothing tone. That did not feel right. He may be safe, but somehow he felt someone else should be telling him so.

"Tell me how I came to be here?" he demanded through gritted teeth.

The woman sighed in defeat, "You nearly died." she admitted. This was true, he could sense no deception in her words. Then she sat next to him and gently touched his temples with her fingertips, "But I think your memory may have been affected." also perfectly true. She tapped into his mind and he saw images flashing across his vision. Memories.

_Dark and overcast night, no rain. Freezing cold. A village he knew well, not his home, but it should have felt safe to him. Sounds of shouting and fire crackling in the distance. Running, panic and fear. He was running towards the danger, not away._

_A young dark-haired woman, her infant son in her arms, and she was crying out for help. They were trapped in a burning house and men with pitchforks and torches shouted and clamoured around them. "Unnatural! Devil-child! Witch!"_

_He tried to break through the crowd, to rescue her, but there were too many of them. No time to curse them all, they grabbed his arms as he tried to get to her, he dropped his wand, and they held him back long enough to complete their foul mission. The trapped innocents died screaming in pain, and he was forced to watch them fall down out of sight behind the window, burning._

_Even as he closed his eyes against the sight the fire still flickered behind his eyelids._

Tears ran down his face, and he pulled away from the woman who had drawn out these painful memories. Something deeper came to him, something he knew with certainty. They had killed his sister, his family. Everyone he had ever cared for, even if he had rarely shown his care overtly. They should have killed him too, but he was still alive. He had fled, after their deaths, hadn't he? That seemed less clear in his memory, but yes it must have been so.

He looked up at the woman with a frown, tear tracks still visible on his face, "Why did you save me?" he asked coldly.

"You still have an opportunity to live. A future." she said simply, stepping back from him and tucking a lock of red hair back under her all-concealing cloak. "A fresh start here."

He shook his head, "You did not show me everything." he noted pointedly.

"There were others. None you were so close to." she bit her lip and frowned, looking away, "They burned it all." something in her tone was deeper, as if she was remembering something different as well. "When I found you, you were close to death. I healed you." she then turned to face him directly, "I gave you a second chance, please don't let me regret it."

He smiled at her, "As you wish, my guardian angel."

She tilted her head to one side, an expression of curiosity, even though her face was still concealed, "How do you know I'm not the devil?"

He laughed, "There would be conditions."

She nodded, "True. I shall leave you now, this land is far from any who might wish you harm. You may rebuild yourself here. Leave your past behind. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." He got the impression she was quoting another there, but did not bother to ask who.

When he turned his back on her, he heard a noise he had no memory of, and yet so strangely familiar. A grinding of stone and lightening, and he felt a breeze flutter past him. When he tried to look back at her she was gone. He could have sworn that wall was closer a moment ago?

Magic. Obviously. Sneaky, that one. He would watch out for her.

x x x

"You are awake, I see." a deep voice disturbed his pensive mood as he had been stalking through the corridors, exploring the building he had found himself in.

"I thought I was alone here?"

"Safe, not alone." the other man said, bemused, "Your mysterious benefactor was quite determined that I keep an eye on you once you woke."

"Is that so?" he asked warily.

"She said you may have problems with your balance for a few days."

Almost as if to prove this statement, he stumbled on a step and almost fell. Thin air caught him as the stranger aimed a wand at him, preventing him from falling and injuring himself. He glared at the stranger, accusing him for the fact he needed help more than for giving it.

The stranger chuckled, and released the spell, allowing him to regain his balance, "I heard what you did, to cause your injury. Noble, to try to save innocents. Bloody stubborn to fight the healer, though."

"I didn't-" he started to argue, but then he remembered. Yes, he had resisted a healer, said he would rather die, that somehow his own death could become a victory. That was clear as crystal in his mind, though the healer's face was not.

"Come, you must be hungry." the stranger said, gesturing towards a specific corridor. He now began to recognise the alluring scent of cooked food from that direction. "Our Helga makes the most delicious pumpkin pasties, you could kill for them. I've offered to."

He laughed, "Thank you, friend."

"My name is Godric Gryffindor. And you are?"

"Salazar Slytherin."

And to quote Muggles, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

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End file.
